


Sweating It Out

by Likea_boss9987



Category: South Park
Genre: And everything in between..., Angst, Crack, Established Relationship, I just love this premise so much, I'm Sorry, Inspired by Shake Weight Episode, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, shake weight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likea_boss9987/pseuds/Likea_boss9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight, Kyle feels insecure about his body and buys the new and improved Shake Weight. And Stan misunderstands the situation. Style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweating It Out

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Crack (just based on the premise) + Angst, Might be OOC, Established Relationship
> 
> Author's Note: I don't know. Just… I don't know why I wrote this. I just love this situation too much. And jealousy. Always jealousy.

It all started with a fight.

It wasn't even that big of a fight, really. Or at least Stan hadn't thought so. Kyle had been going on again about the dangers of football and alcohol, the two things Stan loved most after Kyle. They've argued about it all before. And it wasn't as if they hadn't had their fair share of fights back when they were just best friends. Stan had thought it was just another petty argument, the type that they would forget in a day.

It wasn't.

Who would have thought being in a relationship would make things so complicated? Either way, the fight went something like this.

They were both going through university and scholarship applications alone together at Kyle's house (since Kyle's parents and brother were over in Canada for a week to visit Ike's biological parents) when Kyle suddenly mentioned something he read online. "I just read a news article—another football player suffered from head trauma. Head trauma, Stan! They say it's permanent!" He then went on to say, "Stan… are you sure you want to pursue a career in football? I mean, it's great that you're so psyched on it, really, and I support you but… but is it worth it? When you go into a tackle do you ever consider whether it's worth getting hurt? Dude, it's a great way to get a scholarship and all, and I bet you'll have fun with it throughout your college life but seriously, do you think it's a legitimate career option?"

Stan had been pissed. Why the hell was Kyle always questioning his decisions? Treating him as if he were a child that couldn't tell left from right. But he just held his tongue and nodded. He'd learnt early in their childhood that doing so allowed him to both stay safe and make Kyle happy. The times he hadn't done so didn't turn out so well. In one of those instances, both of them pointed guns at each other, permitting paranoia to nearly ruin their friendship. So yeah. Just smile and nod, wait for it to be over.

But then, of course Kyle had to move on to his next favourite topic. Alcohol.

"And alcohol! I hope you know that once we go to college, I won't be allowing you to just go to parties and get drunk. I know that most universities don't care much about their football players' grades but there's no way I'll be letting you fall victim to that sort of thinking. You're already drinking a lot now. I don't want you to start drinking more. It's so fucking dangerous, like you can't believe! Alcohol poisoning, drunk driving, all this shit is on the news, if you want to know more about it! In fact, you know, maybe you could try to drink less, in preparation for college—"

Stan snapped. "Oh shut up, Kyle. It's not such a big fucking deal. You always have to blow things up. I can handle football! That's why I'm the damn quarterback! Maybe _you'll_ have problems if someone tackles you since you're so darn scrawny but I won't. And alcohol, fucking alcohol again Kyle? Why the hell are you always bringing that up? I'm not fucking addicted!"

"You sound like your dad, Stan. Denial's not the answer," Kyle said, trying to keep a calm composure. "And I don't mean it like that—"

"Then how the fuck do you mean it? And don't compare me to my dad. I'm not. Like. Him. Alcohol makes me happy, Kyle, that's all! And it doesn't hurt! It only really affects small lightweights, anyway. I mean, that's why you don't drink, right?"

"You're a dick, Stan. You know that right? Fucking asshole!" Kyle grabbed Stan off the bed and pushed him towards the door. "In fact, you know what? Fuck off! Get the fuck out of my house."

"Wait Kyle! Don't do this— Aw, aw, come on!"

"No, Stan! Just leave me alone… I'll call you when I'm good and ready… maybe… whatever. Just leave—please."

And Stan left. He didn't think much of it, really.

_I'll just talk to him when he calms down. Everything will be fine. Just… fine._

* * *

Tears started to stream down Kyle's face once Stan left. _Well,_ Kyle thought bitterly. _At least Stan's not here to see me cry like a fucking wuss._

Kyle fell face first onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow, moaning in frustration. It wasn't his fault, right? He had just been warning Stan about the dangers of football and alcohol but then Stan just had to blow up at him. He even insulted Kyle's size. That was absolutely uncalled for. Kyle knew he wasn't very attractive, knew that he was short and scrawny and didn't have much muscle (ever since he quit basketball in Eighth Grade to focus more on his grades, he didn't really exercise. Apparently that stunted his growth. Well, that or he inherited his mother's height genes. Either way, Kyle's current height left much room for growth). And of course, Stan had to be the exact opposite. Tall, handsome and strong. Basically every girl's dream boyfriend. Stan was bisexual so Kyle always felt that irrational fear (or maybe it wasn't so irrational) that Stan would leave him; find out that he did in fact prefer girls to guys and ditch Kyle where he was standing, heartbroken and alone.

"Ugh!" Kyle screamed into the pillow before jumping off the bed. He needed to watch some videos to make himself feel better.

He walked to his computer and went on Youtube, clicking on an educational playlist before allowing his brain to wander with the videos.

But when he was five videos or so in, an ad popped up and disrupted the steady flow of graphics and sound. Goddamit, Kyle hated ads so much. To make it even worse, it was the type you couldn't skip so Kyle had no choice but to watch the whole thing. It was some advertisement for the newest model of the Shake Weight. New and improved. From the voice to the size, it was 'bigger, better and more realistic!' The ad claimed. They even added a new feature, where the person could insert their name into the Shake Weight so the encouragement could be more personal and intimate, helping the customer to exercise with more gusto. It was supposed to help arm muscles grow in a short amount of time. Kyle frowned and looked down at his arms.

Lanky. Thin. Scrawny. No muscle definition whatsoever.

Kyle stared back at the screen. His face twitched. Back at his arms again.

Actually…maybe it wasn't so bad to get one, after all.

And at that moment he made a split decision. He went to the store.

* * *

Stan was glaring at his phone. And drinking.

But really, most of his time was spent fiddling with his phone, just waiting for Kyle's phone call. It's already been two days and yet, Kyle hadn't called. Stan was so, _so_ tempted to just call Kyle, apologise and get it over with. He hadn't previously because he _knew_ Kyle. And really, Stan didn't want to be in his way when he was angry (who knew such a small body could contain so much pure rage). Stan had been confident that Kyle just needed to cool down for a few days and that after that everything would be peachy keen. But he was wrong, apparently. This time the fight had been different and Stan needed to do something about it. It was just so wrong to not have Kyle by his side, talking and joking and just having fun with each other. They've never really been apart from each other for very long, except for some extreme circumstances like when Kyle went for out-of-state competitions or when Kyle's family moved out of South Park because of hybrid cars. Yeah, that one's a long story.

Anyway, Stan had never recalled ever being so hung up on someone that he'd just stare at his phone hours on hand, just waiting for his partner to call him like some kind of lovesick puppy. Even when he was with Wendy, whom he had (at the time) spent four years dating on-and-off and who he had expected to marry and have children with (which was, at the age of twelve, something he really shouldn't be thinking of but it was South Park and children matured fast so whatever), he never really cared too much when she was giving him the cold shoulder, as he would always just go hang out with Kyle. To be honest, whenever he had relationship problems before they became a couple, he would just go chill with his Super Best Friend and it had been a comfort, knowing that there would always be Kyle in his life, something stable and never-changing. Kyle hadn't been interested in dating anyone then too, which helped greatly as Stan never needed to worry that he would lose Kyle to the stress of maintaining romantic relationships. You know, that was probably what Stan got for getting invested in romance so early in his life.

Stan groaned. Now that he was _dating_ Kyle, he couldn't just hang out with him when they were having relationship trouble. They've not really had any serious arguments in the two years they've been dating, so seamless the transition from best friends to boyfriends was. So _that's_ why Stan felt like such a pussy right now—he was suffering from Kyle withdrawal.

He looked at his phone. Okay, he _really_ needed to fix this. But—would Kyle even answer him if he called now?

 _No,_ Stan thought, as he clenched his fists in determination. _I'll just have to go to his house then. Prove to him that I'm damn committed to this relationship._

When Stan reached Kyle's house, it almost seemed as if nobody was home. The rest of the Broflovski family was still in Canada and Stan knew that Kyle didn't have plans for today. But maybe Kyle decided to go hang out with Kenny or even Cartman (if he was desperate enough) since they were having their first major 'couple' fight. Stan wasn't sure if he was happy about that or not. Kyle shouldn't be talking to others about their relationship, only _him._ But that would mean that Kyle cared enough about them being together to ask for advice…

Either way, Stan knew he would find a way to talk to Kyle today. Maybe he would just wait inside Kyle's room until he came home… Yeah, that would work.

Stan took out his keys to Kyle's house (he had them ever since they turned sixteen, the year they started dating, as Sheila and Gerald told him that he always thought of him as part of the family and since he was already dating their son, they imagined it greatly appropriate to bestow upon him his own key to the house. Kyle had also decided to make him a key to his room in secret, since he always locked his door at night and didn't want Stan coming in through the window (as Kyle now put several booby traps near it to prevent creepers like Cartman and Butters from getting in)) and unlocked the front door, looking around for any sign of life.

 _None so far,_ Stan thought.

But then he heard faint sounds coming from upstairs.

_Ah, so he is home._

Feeling glad, Stan started up the stairs with a grin on his face. However, the grin grew smaller the closer he got to Kyle's room, until it disappeared completely.

The sounds. They were suspicious. They almost sounded… sexual.

Stan arched an eyebrow. Was Kyle really… masturbating?

The grunts grew louder and now Stan was standing directly outside Kyle's room, the only thing separating the two of them was a flimsy, wooden door.

Stan flushed. Oh those sounds… This was kinda embarrassing. Stan could feel a certain part of him get hard just listening to it. Man, Stan didn't even know that Kyle fapped.

 _It's okay,_ Stan said, taking in a deep breath. _I'll just wait until his done, and then I'll go in. For now—I guess I can just enjoy the show._

"Come on, faster, _faster_." The unknown male voice came out from nowhere and now, Stan felt puzzled beyond belief. Since when did Kyle watch porn?

"Now switch arms, wow, you're amazing!" The voice continued urging. Stan scowled. At least if Kyle wanted to watch porn, he should have chosen one that had better content. But wait—didn't Kyle just give a long-winded gay-ass speech to Stan last week about the dangers of porn? About how demeaning it was to everyone involved? About how there was no way that he would support such an industry?

Was Kyle just being a hypocrite? Or—

"You're beautiful Kyle, keep going. Work those arms."

Wait. Did that guy just call out Kyle's name?

And then Stan heard Kyle moan and respond with a "Thanks…"

"Yes, good, Kyle, almost done."

"Keep going, harder, FASTER."

Stan just stood there, frozen to the spot as heard the mystery guy urge his boyfriend on, with Kyle interjecting with moans and groans and also once with a "This is—this easier than I thought. More fun too. Better that… better than I thought it would be."

He just couldn't comprehend it… That guy just called out Kyle's name. Kyle's _fucking name._

_That means it isn't porn… oh my god. Is Kyle—_

Stan couldn't even finish that thought. But that didn't stop him from fuming inside at the other man. Goddamit he was going to punch whoever it was that was inside with Kyle. In a small town such as South Park, no gossip was small gossip and whenever word went out on anything, everyone knew. Everyone knew whenever someone was dating someone else and everyone knew, everyone _fucking knew_ that Kyle was _taken._ Everyone knew that _Kyle belonged to Stan_. So whoever was inside knew that Kyle was cheating and apparently didn't care. He was just as at fault as Kyle.

And speaking of _Kyle,_ Stan hadn't thought that that argument would get this big, he didn't think it would drive Kyle to _cheat_. Hell, Stan hadn't even thought that Kyle had it in him to cheat. His best friend…

But wait. What if Kyle thought they were better as just best friends? What if the next time Kyle spoke to him, he would suggest they break up, say that he liked someone else, and say that they could still be best friends… but nothing more?

No, that was unacceptable! Stan didn't think that it could get any worst than that.

"Aw! Sick! I got it on my face, dude!" Kyle wailed and hearing that, hearing Kyle bring another guy off—Stan couldn't take it anymore.

He pulled out his key and unlocked the door. Slamming it open, Stan didn't care if he startled Kyle or his _lover._ He stormed into the room, the fury he felt was as clear as day on his face. He looked around to find that Kyle was alone, his face drenched in what looked to be sweat. The bed sheets weren't rumpled or anything and Kyle had a curious, innocent look on his face. But Stan wouldn't fall for that bullshit. He knew what he heard. Kyle was delusional if he thought he could play innocent now.

"Where is he?!" Stan screamed as he dashed to Kyle's closet and opened it, trying to find the bastard that dared to touch _his_ boyfriend. Kyle must have heard him trying to unlock his room door and managed to hide the mystery man in time. "Who did you get to fuck you Kyle? Who did you get to fuck you after our fight? Did he escape by the window?" Stan just felt so angry he spurted out anything that came to mind. He didn't even think. He wasn't at fault here anyway! He wasn't the one that cheated.

"You fucking slut! I never would've thought you would do something like that to me!" He didn't know why he said it, he was just so _pissed_ and the drinking he'd done beforehand didn't help matters at all. He was usually so calm… This was not him. This just wasn't _him_.

* * *

Kyle was crying—he was just so confused. He'd just been exercising, marveling at how he felt better and stronger after every workout when Stan burst in shouting at him, accusing him of cheating, accusing him of being a fucking slut when he knew, _knew_ that Kyle has never slept with anyone but Stan. What the fuck was Stan on about? And why the fuck did he think this was an okay thing to do?

"What are you talking about?" Kyle shouted back. "I d-don't know what you're fucking talking about Stan! And don't you dare call me a slut Stan. Don't you fucking dare!"

"But I just heard you jerk someone off! How could you? And where's that jerk anyway? I need to punch him in the fucking face!" Stan replied and that didn't explain anything. It only made Kyle more confused than before.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I WAS JUST EXERCISING!" Kyle screamed, shoving the Shake Weight into Stan's face. "You fucking asshole, Stan! Why would you think—why would you fucking think that? Don't you fucking trust me? I can't—I can't believe you!"

"But the voice…"

"It's part of the improvements and shit Stan, why couldn't you just try to trust me? I bought this so I could look good for you and you repay me with this bullshit? Well, I'm fucking done with your bullshit! We're breaking up!"

 _NONONONONONO._ Stan thought, his mind racing as Kyle's words reached his ears. This couldn't be happening. Why the fuck was the Shake Weight always fucking up his life? How could he ever think Kyle—pure, beautiful, innocent Kyle—would cheat on him? Why did he always fuck things up?!

"Wait. No, you can't! I won't let you! I mean—I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry that we fought, I'm sorry for this—I came here to apologise and it just sounded like—I'm just sorry okay?! I have no excuse, alright? I'm just so, so fucking sorry. Please don't break up with me. Please Kyle, I need you. I can't fucking live without you, okay? I'll make it up to you… I'll stop drinking; I'll even stop playing football just please? Give me another chance? I'm…sorry…" Stan panted.

Kyle looked at Stan throughout the entire thing, staring up at him with pity, even though he still felt hurt because of Stan's words. He sighed. He couldn't believe he was doing this but—

"Okay… alright… just one more chance Stan. However, if you ever call me a slut again… I'll leave you so fast, you won't even see it coming.

"And Stan, I don't want you to quit the things you love. Goddamit, I just want you to be careful! Don't just throw yourself into dangerous things. I don't want you to—I don't want you to hurt yourself. I just don't want you to die before me, alright? Remember what we promised each other back when we were nine? We're going to die together, no sooner, no later." Kyle said.

Stan sniffed, before pulling Kyle into a hug, burying his face into Kyle's red, puffy hair. "Alright. I get you. I—I love you so much Kyle. You're not just my boyfriend, you know? You're my Super Best Friend and I never want to lose you.

"And there's no reason for you to need to look good for me. I mean, you don't need to try. You're already so perfect! I'm sorry I ever made you think otherwise."

Kyle snuggled into Stan's chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

"It's not your fault. I guess I was just feeling insecure… I understand now. It was just said in the pique of the moment. I shouldn't have taken it to heart. I just love you and I don't want you to leave me for someone better."

Stan let out a sad chuckle. "That's silly. No one's better for me than you."

Stan and Kyle just stayed in that position, with Stan holding Kyle to his chest, as they realised that even though their relationship was not perfect, they could always find a way to fix it as long as they remembered to talk to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first South Park fanfiction. I hoped you all enjoyed it! Man... I wrote a whole outline for this and since I found it quite amusing (it read like a tumblr prompt), I think I might post it in a second chapter.


End file.
